


The mask's on the desk

by Aondeug



Category: Force of Will (Card Game)
Genre: F/F, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 14:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14403618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aondeug/pseuds/Aondeug
Summary: Zero has a habit of worrying, just a bit too much. She has a habit of wearing a brave face too. Thankfully Fiethsing's around to help her loosen up when she needs.





	The mask's on the desk

It’s fine  
Is what she tells everyone  
This day  
Like so many others.  
Fears run through her,  
Her mind a mess of possibility  
Infinite in number and horror.  
Deaths here.  
Failures there.  
Maybe a grave injury at best.  
Can they best this foe?  
Is this the end of the Sages?  
Is this the end of the world?  
She ponders this  
Over a cup of coffee  
Poured by Moojdart,  
All concern and bother.  
   
It’s fine  
Is what she says as she slinks off,  
Telling Mooj again and again  
Don’t worry, don’t worry  
It’s fine,  
She can handle it.  
She always can, she always must.  
Grus is worried too  
And Milest  
And even their leader  
Who’s normally too vain to care.  
She brushes past them all  
To go and hide away  
As she tries to fix it,  
As she runs through bad ends  
In search of a single good.  
She can’t find one  
Or even the hint of one  
No matter how hard she picks  
At the threads of potentiality.  
There’s only more worries,  
Only more failures,  
Which darken the flame of Hope  
Burning inside  
Which she clings to so stubbornly  
Even though it’s not her natural Will.  
She’s got to.  
She’s got to cling,  
Got to be strong.  
She’ll fix it, she will.  
   
There’s a knock at her door  
And it opens  
Before she can even say no  
Because that’s just how Fiethsing is,  
Because that’s just how little she cares.  
Really it’s amazing she knocked,  
But there you go.  
You never can guess with her,  
But Zero can know she’s annoyed.  
She snaps at her.  
An admonition, a demand  
To go, to leave.  
That you shouldn’t just barge in  
“I mean really, Fieth,”  
And it’s fine anyway.  
It’s always fine.  
   
But that’s not what she came for.  
So she claims.  
She’s just here to find a book,  
Steal it more like,  
Like she always does  
And Zero’ll never see it again.  
It’s just a ploy anyway,  
It’s just a ploy thankfully,  
Unfortunately.  
Fieth sets in on the search,  
Looking for a book  
And not speaking a word more,  
Of concern or otherwise.  
She’s simply an annoyance  
That rummages through her things  
After barging into her space.  
Fieth’s one that’ll be ignored.  
Has to be, must be.  
So she drinks her coffee  
And goes to reading,  
Or more like looking at pages  
As the words blur together  
From fear  
Now tinted with anger.  
   
It’s fine  
And Fiethsing sighs  
Finally feeling fit  
To make a sound  
And even words.  
“Wow, it’s hot.  
Don’t you think so, Zero?”  
There’s more sound too  
Of rustling clothes  
Falling off  
Onto the floor.  
A shirt gone,  
More than likely.  
Still searching too.  
She pays no mind,  
As little as she can.  
She has a book to not read.  
   
A book to not read  
As a thought invades her mind  
Of what Fieth must look like.  
Topless and slick with sweat  
As she digs through her shelves  
Musing to herself,  
“Oh it’s not here either, oh dear.”  
There’s a book to not read  
As an image invades her mind  
Of a hug,  
Of a kiss,  
A touch, anything.  
Contact, warm and simple.  
Memories flood  
And imaginings more  
As she has a book to not read.  
   
Still it’s fine,  
Just fine.  
She’ll just read and think  
On all the ways the world can end  
Because that’s better.  
Better than admitting she’s scared,  
Better than admitting she needs help.  
Help of any sort.  
A talk, advice, a decision  
Or a pair of arms  
Wrapped around her waist  
As she falls apart  
Just for a moment.  
   
“Oh, there it is!”  
Rings out Fieth’s sing song tone  
And she trots on over,  
For once bothering to walk  
And not float.  
Just so she’ll hear,  
Just so she’ll know.  
It’s a kindness but it doesn’t feel like it,  
More like a threat  
That makes her sigh  
Heavy and hard  
In frustration  
As she turns around to see  
Fieth topless and grinning.  
It’s enough to make her sick.  
With fury.  
With fear.  
With want.  
She holds out her book  
Arm outstretched  
As far as it can go,  
A barrier between them both.  
She doesn’t want to play this game,  
She wants to play this game.  
   
Fieth takes the book with glee  
And a pleased, “Thank you!”  
Before she rambles on and on  
About dull history being her passion  
Don’t you know, Zero?  
It’s charming,  
It’s cute  
And she just wants her gone.  
Gone and away  
With her mirth,  
Infectious as always,  
And her plans,  
Impish as always.  
So she turns back around  
And grabs another book.  
Another thing to not read  
As she tells herself  
That it’s fine.  
   
It’s fine  
As Fieth steps forward and  
Rests a hand on her  
Gripping her shoulder.  
It’s fine  
When she says, “I went a bit far  
Didn’t I, Zero?”  
Which she did  
But it’s fine  
And it’s not.  
It wasn’t far enough, not close enough.  
She didn’t just grab her  
Right there, right then.  
She didn’t just force her down  
Against her desk  
And whisper in her ear  
Just what she’ll do to her.  
   
So she falls to her side  
Just far enough  
To fall back into Fieth,  
Head resting right between her breasts.  
The grip becomes a hug,  
Arm wrapping firmly around  
Her frightened frame,  
So frail,  
Right now, right here.  
   
“It’s fine,”  
She says again.  
This time it’s the truth,  
And a lie  
And she closes her eyes  
And she melts  
Right there, right then  
In Fiethsing’s arms,  
Though she wants nothing more  
Than to chase her off.  
   
“Just need a moment?”  
Fieth asks  
With a sincerity  
That she so often lacks.  
She’s not going to run off.  
She’s not going to lie.  
She’s not going to force the matter  
Even if Zero wants her to.  
It’s frustrating,  
The fiendish way that Fieth  
Makes her fend for herself  
By pushing just enough  
To get a decision.  
   
It’s fine,  
Frustrating or not,  
As she pushes herself up and off.  
Just enough to sit up,  
Just enough to lean in  
As she makes a decision at last.  
Her lips part  
And she kisses Fiethsing.  
A moan escapes her,  
A desperate plea  
Muffled as Fieth’s tongue meets hers  
And as Fieth’s hand crawls up her front.  
Up her front, to her shoulder  
To her neck,  
Thumb rubbing idly, intently.  
Intoxicating, it’s intoxicating  
That sensation and more  
As she leans forward the more,  
Body pressed  
Against Fieth’s.  
Fieth who takes hold of her waist  
With a free arm  
And pulls her forward and up  
To get her standing.  
Two bodies, pressed together.  
The kiss deepens,  
Desperate all the more.  
  
Her hands snake up Fieth’s back,  
And her nails dig into Fieth’s back.  
Fieth who breaks the kiss  
As she lets out a hiss  
Of pained satisfaction  
And who looks down  
At her  
As she buries her face  
Into her chest.  
She’s coming undone.  
She’s starting to cry.  
She’s clinging as she can,  
Telling herself  
Over and over  
That it’s fine.  
   
It’s fine  
And Fieth’s here  
Resting her cheek  
Against her head  
And with her hand  
Stroking her hair  
And her other  
Holding her firmly,  
Tightly  
Just as she needs.  
Just as she needs  
Until she needs more,  
More than a hug  
And fingers in her hair.  
   
She slips away,  
Steps on back  
One step, then two  
Until a boot clicks against her desk.  
She looks on  
Eyes pleading  
As she looks on at her  
Her shirtless lover standing there  
Unsure now of what she wants  
But so sure of what she wants.  
More, her.  
   
So Fieth steps forward herself  
Hands taking to her dress,  
Undoing the buttons  
As Zero tries to slip out of it.  
Abandoning it on the floor,  
Her bra goes there next  
And her underwear  
And her boots too.  
It all goes  
Until she is laid bare  
For Fieth to look upon.  
Fieth who doesn’t strip entirely,  
Keeping her skirt on  
And her boots too.  
She dips down into her neck,  
Pressing her lips against  
That flesh  
Vulnerable, sensitive  
Enough to elicit a sigh.  
Enough to get a roll of the hips.  
Just enough  
And not enough  
As she buries her fingers  
Into Fieth’s hair.  
Pulling, stroking,  
Needing simply to feel  
Her and only her.  
The her that slips a hand  
Right between her thighs  
Right then, right there.  
A finger searching,  
A finger finding  
Just how wet she is.  
A finger searching,  
A finger finding  
Just how hard her clit is.  
Zero finds too  
Once again  
Just how skilled Fieth is.  
How Fieth can circle her clit  
Just the right way, just firm enough.  
Enough to get her biting her lip  
And resting her forehead  
Into Fieth’s shoulder  
As she comes apart  
In her hands.  
   
It’s fine  
As her knees grow weak  
And her breathing quickens.  
It’s fine as Fieth slides a finger in  
And a second.  
The welcome stretch,  
The familiar tension  
Makes her shiver  
As Fieth reaches deeper,  
Deeper inside  
And as Fieth pulls out  
And pushes back in.  
She pulls her head back,  
And lets out a moan  
Saying her name  
As she pulls her hair.  
God she’s near,  
God she’s close,  
God she’s in.  
In her  
Both in body and soul  
And it’s all she can do  
But say her name again  
And again.  
A fevered plea  
As she begs for more,  
Begs for her.  
As doubts begin to clear  
And leave  
Just for a time.  
Just right here, right now  
And it’s fine.  
   
Fieth pulls out again  
This time fully  
Leaving a dull ache,  
An urgent need for more.  
She wants to swear at her,  
She wants to beg to her  
To go back.  
Back in,  
Take her right there.  
She needs it, needs her.  
Desperately.  
Fieth doesn’t though.  
She grabs Zero’s thighs  
And lifts as she can.  
And she gets it  
Though she’d rather not.  
Rather not wait,  
But she does wait and she knows  
And she shifts her weight  
Until she’s seated right on her desk,  
Until she’s pressed down on her desk.  
   
Fingers out of Fieth’s hair  
She gropes at hard wood  
That’s cold against her back  
While the warmth burns  
Between her legs.  
She looks at her,  
Looks to her.  
Fieth’s hands rest on her thighs  
As she looks back  
Right at her,  
Like she sees right through her.  
Because she does,  
She always does.  
   
A hand travels up her thigh  
Tracing a finger across her body.  
A touch electric,  
But not enough.  
Not enough but enough  
To get her speaking, to get her begging.  
“Fieth, please.”  
But Fieth just grins,  
Feeling her breasts,  
Admiring the look in her eyes.  
“Fieth please just stop looking,  
Just this once and fuck me.”  
The words excite  
And torment  
And her cheeks burn red,  
More ashamed to say it  
Than have it happen.  
Yet  
The word she hears back isn’t a yes.  
It’s “No.”  
   
It’s fine  
Isn’t it?  
What had she done?  
What could she have done?  
Is it ending here, now?  
Is it ending with still more to go?  
What could she have done,  
What could have Fieth have done?  
Her fears come quick  
And they’re tossed aside quick  
As Fiethsing’s grin widens  
And she says  
“I’ve got a better idea.”  
That’s fine.  
   
More than fine.  
Fine as Fieth bends down  
Hand resting against the desk,  
The other heading right back down  
To her thighs.  
Right back to part her lips  
And then she feels her lips  
And she feels her tongue  
Against her clit.  
Her fears are dashed  
Right against the wall  
And she lets out a cry,  
A trembling moan.  
So satisfied, yet not at all  
As Fiethsing traces her clit  
With her tongue.  
As Fiethsing sucks at her clit  
She claws, she scrabbles  
Searching for purchase on the desk.  
Which can’t be found  
And she can’t find words  
As she bucks her hips  
Against Fiethsing’s mouth.  
Not concerned about noise,  
Not concerned about poise  
Her worries gone entirely  
And only this moment exists.  
Only their bodies so close  
Yet not close enough.  
Time fades, distance fades.  
A finger slips in again,  
Then two, then three  
But Fieth pulls her head up  
Just to get it all situated.  
Just to get it right.  
Zero whines,  
“Fiethsing please. ”  
   
It’s more than fine  
As Fieth dips back down  
And Zero grabs wildly  
Looking for something to hold  
To touch.  
All the better if it’s her,  
If it’s Fieth and it is,  
Her hair.  
Her hair that Zero balls into her fist,  
Her hair that she pulls upon  
As the tension builds,  
As the ache grows.  
Until at last it rolls over,  
A rush of sensation  
And feeling  
That shakes her body  
And gets her to cry out  
Impassioned, fevered ramblings  
About her, about her,  
God just her.  
Just.  
Fiethsing.  
   
And it’s fine  
As Fieth keeps working at her  
Through the orgasm,  
Past the orgasm  
And into the pain  
Of too much sensation, too much.  
She moans, she whines.  
She begs, she even swears  
And she bangs a fist on her desk  
To stifle the pain, the pleasure.  
   
Fiethsing slides out  
And sits on up  
And she laughs and prods  
Right at her thigh.  
“I bet even Milest heard that.”  
What can she do  
But roll her eyes  
And groan in exasperation  
At that comment.  
What can she do  
But be glad  
Glad deep down for it,  
For it all.  
Glad enough that she sits up,  
Glad enough that she hugs Fieth.  
   
“It’s fine.”


End file.
